Love, Multiplied
by Gracielinn
Summary: "The days and weeks since leaving the bunker had flown by at a dizzying pace, and suddenly, tomorrow was Valentines Day...Lucy had a feeling it was going to be a day the two of them would never forget..." Post Christmas movie/future one-shot fic.


Love, Multiplied

_A/N #1: This is in response to the #Lyatt Week challenge on Twitter (thanks, Lyattverse!) to design a "love-themed" Valentines Day for Lucy and Wyatt. I'd also like to give a big shout out to my Timeless friend, Jessica Johnson, for her generous contribution to this story..._

_February 13, 2019_

_Early evening_

_\- Lucy -_

Lucy's hands shook slightly as she carefully nestled a pair of snowy-white onesies side by side in a square, flat box lined with pale yellow tissue paper. Once the tiny garments were arranged to her satisfaction, she placed a small matching yellow envelope on top of them before tucking the tissue paper securely around the contents and closing the box with a pensive sigh.

She gazed at the innocuous-looking box for a long moment, a tremulous smile curving her lips. The days and weeks since leaving the bunker with the rest of the team early Christmas morning had flown by at a dizzying pace, and suddenly, tomorrow was Valentines Day. It was the first one she and Wyatt would celebrate as husband and wife since they were married in a very private ceremony on New Years Eve and-_-after her unexpectedly shocking doctor's appointment this morning–_Lucy had a feeling when he returned from San Diego tomorrow night, it was going to be a holiday the two of them would never forget...

_One week earlier..._

Lucy shuddered and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before reaching out to flush the toilet and slumping tiredly against the side of the bathtub, hoping desperately the meager remaining contents of her stomach would stay put. Pushing sleep-tangled hair off her sweaty forehead, she jerked at a tentative knock on the bathroom door.

"Lucy? Are you okay?" Wyatt asked through the door, pausing only a moment before trying the doorknob. _Thank God she'd locked the door. _Lucy really didn't want her husband seeing her like this. Bolting out of bed and sprinting for the bathroom for at least the third morning in a row, she couldn't remember ever suffering this badly from the flu before, and was definitely feeling less than attractive at the moment.

"Sweetheart? Please open the door." Now he sounded worried. _Great. _She loved the man more than her own life, but sometimes his naturally protective attitude towards her could be a little smothering, even though their lives were fortunately quite ordinary now that the surreal days of time traveling were behind them.

Clearing her throat and nearly gagging at the bitter taste in her mouth, Lucy called out, "I'm fine, Wyatt, just give me a minute, alright?"

She exhaled in relief when after a few seconds, his deep voice rumbled through the door. "Well, if you're sure. I'm going downstairs and start breakfast." As the sound of his footsteps faded from earshot, Lucy gritted her teeth and got to her feet, staggering slightly when the room spun crazily for a few seconds before she lunged for the sink to steady herself. Staring blearily in the mirror, she grimaced at her reflection. _Ugh. _This super aggressive virus that had been going around was really kicking her ass. Sighing in resignation, Lucy quickly gathered her unruly hair in a loose ponytail and after rinsing out her mouth, splashed cold water on her face before reluctantly heading downstairs to face her husband...

_\- Wyatt -_

Wyatt immediately woke the second Lucy jumped out of bed and ran for the bathroom for the third or fourth morning in a row, wincing sympathetically when the unmistakable sound of vomiting drifted through the closed door. _What the hell was going on with her? _He was really starting to get worried. Something about the Professor had been off for nearly a week now, despite the way Lucy had repeatedly brushed aside his concerns, and Wyatt couldn't help wondering if this was some kind of delayed reaction to the aftereffects of time travel or something.

Finally, desperate for some kind of reassurance, he'd privately texted Rufus yesterday to ask if such a thing was possible, but his friend had been less than comforting, admitting that while it was unlikely, there just wasn't any way of knowing for sure. _Well, thanks, Rufus, that was less than helpful. _Privately, Wyatt was well aware his wife considered him to be a little overprotective at times, but after coming dangerously close to losing her more times than he cared to count over the past couple years, just the thought of something happening to Lucy had the power to practically paralyze him with fear. His wife had owned Wyatt's heart and soul for a long time now, and he couldn't imagine living in a world without her.

Sitting at the table sipping his coffee, Wyatt looked up when Lucy shuffled slowly into the kitchen before dropping heavily into a chair beside him. Eyeing her as unobtrusively as possible, he was dismayed by her almost fragile appearance. _Yep, his beautiful wife definitely looked like hell. _ Her normally creamy pale complexion was completely washed out and faded purplish shadows seemed to have taken up permanent residence under her dark amber eyes. In spite of his best intentions, the blunt words impulsively tumbled out of Wyatt's mouth.

"You look terrible, Lucy. Maybe you should go see a doctor," he suggested hesitantly, falling silent at the fierce (but so adorable) scowl she instantly sent his way before burying her head in her hands. Taking a deep breath, Wyatt tried again. "Listen, I'm sorry if that hurts your feelings, but sweetheart, this flu bug or whatever you've picked up has been really rough on you and seems to be hanging on longer than it should, and I'm starting to worry about you." Tugging her close, Wyatt wrapped an arm around her narrow shoulders, and as discreetly as possible, pressed his lips to her somewhat clammy forehead. _No fever, thank God._

"No, Captain Obvious, I don't have a fever," she said crossly, jerking away from him. _Oops, busted. _Holding his hands up palms out in surrender, he offered to make Lucy something easy on her stomach to eat like dry toast, but the stubborn little thing refused any offer of food-although she did take a few sips of the water with lemon he set in front of her. Glancing at his phone, Wyatt realized he was going to be late for work if he didn't get upstairs in the next minute or two for a shower.

Without warning, he felt the warmth of Lucy pressing her cheek against his waist. "I'm sorry, Wyatt," she mumbled. "You're just trying to take good care of me like you always do, and I'm acting like a witch. Forgive me?"

He smiled at her humble apology, and leaning down to press a soft kiss on top of her head, replied mildly, "Yes, Ma'am, always. Now, are you gonna be alright here by yourself today? I have to get a shower and head into the office. Denise and I are still working on a proposal for this new program she's implementing in our DHS division, plus I need to finish making the travel arrangements for my trip to Pendleton the first of the week." Leaning back, Wyatt gently tilted Lucy's chin and looking into her dull brown eyes, made her promise him she'd call the doctor for an appointment _today_, and to his immense relief, with a weary sigh, his wife nodded solemnly.

Busy as they both were trying to settle into a new (_thankfully normal_) routine, the next couple of days and the weekend passed quickly, and all too soon it was Monday morning. Curled possessively around the slight form of his peacefully sleeping wife when the alarm on his phone began to beep softly, Wyatt blinked drowsily in the pre-dawn darkness and swore under his breath. Despite his instinctive need to stay with Lucy and look after her until she was better, his military transport to Pendleton was leaving at 0600 sharp this morning, and it usually took a good 45 minutes to drive to the airfield.

Since he'd begun working as Agent Christopher's second in command at the San Francisco Office of Homeland Security just after the new year, his boss had done her best whenever it was in her power to do so to limit his time away from the office to day trips only, which Wyatt very much appreciated. Unfortunately, this particular mission would necessitate his absence for a full four days, and he wouldn't be coming home until some time Thursday evening (which-_luckily_-he remembered last week happened to be his and Lucy's first married Valentines Day).

He smiled to himself at the thought of his wife opening up his Valentines gift when he got back. In addition to ordering delivery on Thursday of a small arrangement of daisies and carnations (her favorite flowers), with a little help from Jiya, Wyatt had selected a dainty antique silver locket to replace the one Lucy selflessly bartered for information about their friend when the team went searching for her in 1888. He knew Lucy had resolutely put away the tiny pictures of her beloved, gone forever sister Amy (_thanks to his zealous, crazy Rittenhouse mother-in-law_), and hoped a new locket to hold them would help make her loss slightly more bearable.

Forcing himself to get out of bed, Wyatt was showered and dressed in record time. Standing in front of their roomy closet, he quickly took out the large black duffle bag packed last night and checked to make sure the small, gift-wrapped jewelry box he'd neatly secured inside a zippered pocket was safe. Satisfied, he crossed the room and carefully kneeling on the bed, leaned over and buried his nose in Lucy's fragrant hair. Not wanting to disturb her rest since she was still getting over being sick, Wyatt settled for whispering against her soft, warm cheek, "I love you, Lucy Logan," before reluctantly pulling away and tucking the covers securely around her bare shoulders. _The sooner he left, the sooner he'd be home, _Wyatt consoled himself, and picking up his bag, quietly made his way out of the room.

_February 14, 2019_

_Valentines Day_

_\- Lucy -_

Despite her seemingly endless fatigue lately, Lucy slept rather poorly the night before, too excited about Wyatt's return and the amazing, wonderful surprise she had for him to close her eyes for more than a few minutes. It didn't help their king-size bed seemed so empty and lonely without him, even though she'd comforted herself during his absence by curling her body around his pillow–a poor substitute indeed, but at least his familiar scent lingered soothingly on the pillowcase. She sighed in relief when her alarm eventually went off, surprised and gratified at the momentary absence of the ever-present nausea of the past few days. Cautiously climbing out of bed to avoid pissing off her stomach, Lucy hurried to the bathroom to get started on the last day this week without her husband.

Her heightened sense of anticipation for Wyatt's return seemed to make the day stretch endlessly before Lucy. She determinedly kept herself occupied by catching up on emails and doing some chores around the house, smiling absently at the white gift box on top of the dresser while she was putting away some clean laundry, and even laid down for a brief nap after lunch. Finally, around 4:00 p.m., she decided a nice, warm shower might help her relax. This was going to be one of the most important nights of their lives, and naturally, Lucy wanted to look (and feel) her best. After toweling off, she smoothed a lightly-scented lotion her husband seemed partial to into her skin before slipping into a delicate, blush pink set of bra and panties bought earlier in the day at Victoria's Secret.

Standing in front of the full-length mirror in only her new underwear, Lucy turned from side to side, trying hard to imagine what she'd look like in the coming months. Gently cupping her deceptively-flat stomach, she gazed critically at her reflection. _Better enjoy it while you can, Big Sister, _a tiny voice in the back of her head that sounded very much like Amy Preston warned suddenly.

Lucy's eyes welled up as still-sharp pangs of grief and longing swept over her. _Her sister would have been overjoyed to be a "cool" aunt to Lucy's children_, she thought sadly. Sniffing and swiping at a lone tear slipping down her cheek, Lucy shook her head in dismay and swiftly finished dressing in a comfortable (_for now_) pair of slim-fitting jeans and a warm, dark red sweater. _C'mon, Luce, this evening is a time for celebration_, Amy would have reminded her, and of course, she would have been correct, but_ dammit_, Lucy missed her so terribly, every single day. Forcing herself to take several cleansing breaths, her emotions calmed a little and she felt slightly more composed.

With trembling fingers, she applied a light touch of makeup and pulled the long raven curls back off her face with a red velvet headband, at last satisfied with her appearance in the mirror. Bringing Wyatt's gift downstairs with her and putting it on the table in front of the sofa, Lucy was in the kitchen preparing a light snack to settle her faintly queasy stomach when the doorbell rang. To her delight, it was an employee of a local florist holding a charming arrangement of white daisies and red carnations, her favorite. After generously tipping the delivery person, she carried the flowers into the living room and set them beside the white box, gazing in appreciation at the cheerful flowers. _Not long now until her loving, thoughtful husband would be walking through the front door..._

_\- Wyatt - _

Wyatt pulled into the driveway with a heartfelt sigh. While so far he genuinely enjoyed his busy, challenging position with Homeland Security and working for Denise, the last four days had dragged on almost unbearably. Leaving Lucy before dawn Monday morning had been pure torture, made only somewhat tolerable by their lengthy nightly phone calls and occasional texts during the day. In return for sending Wyatt to Pendleton this week, however, his boss had generously given him tomorrow off, and he couldn't wait to spend three whole days with his sweet, sexy wife.

Gratefully loosening his tie as he walked up the sidewalk to their front door, Wyatt anxiously patted his jacket pocket for Lucy's gift. _Still there_. As he started to unlock the door, it opened abruptly and the Professor–a Valentines Day vision in a pretty red sweater-flew into his arms, hugging him tightly and peppering his face with tiny, frantic kisses. _God, how he'd missed her. _Reaching blindly behind him, Wyatt managed to shut the door with the two of them inside the house, pressing Lucy firmly against it and kissing her thoroughly.

"Welcome home, soldier," she murmured breathlessly against his lips, drawing away slightly with a bright smile. He returned her smile, heart swelling with love for this woman. _Anywhere Lucy was would always be home for him._

"Thank you, Ma'am. Might have to go away more often to earn a special welcome like that," Wyatt teased. Hands resting loosely on her narrow hips, he looked into her glowing dark eyes and readily shared, "I missed you so much. Are you feeling any better, sweetheart? Were you able to get in to see the doctor? I kept hoping you did, but when you didn't mention anything about an appointment, I was starting to get a little concerned."

In response, she dropped her eyes almost guiltily before wordlessly taking his hand and leading him into the living room. A bit confused by her odd behavior, he barely noticed the small white box on the low table in front of the sofa, although he _was_ pleased to see her flowers had been delivered on time. They sat down side by side, close enough he could feel the warmth of her slender denim-clad thigh against his. Wyatt opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Lucy broke the silence.

"First, thank you so much for the beautiful flowers, Wyatt, I love them," she began with a tender smile, the one that was his alone. Before he could pull out the box burning a hole in his pocket and give her the rest of her present, though, Lucy picked up the flat white box beside the flowers, and handing it to him, said, "This is for you, Wyatt. I love _you_, love being your wife because you make every day we're together better than the one before. Happy Valentines Day." He looked up from the gift in his hands to see her watching him intently. His wife was being quite mysterious all of a sudden. _Just what kind of gift was inside this box that weighed hardly anything at all?_

Lifting the lid of the box, Wyatt pushed away the tissue paper to see a small yellow card resting on some kind of soft white material. His breath painfully caught at the single word neatly printed on the envelope: _Daddy._ Stunned, he looked up to see Lucy regarding him with a shy, luminous smile. "What the? Lucy? You're pregnant? That's the reason you've been sick?" _A baby. They were having a baby. Lucy was pregnant..._

With a teary nod, she bit her lower lip and urged, "Keep going, Wyatt. Finish opening your gift, please." Bemused, Wyatt turned his attention back to the box and found under the yellow tissue paper, not one, but _two_ of those cotton undershirt things babies wore. Correctly reading the rather bewildered expression on his face, Lucy chuckled and kindly informed him, "They're called onesies."

Still not quite comprehending what his wife was trying to tell him, Wyatt frowned and asked, "Okay, but why are there two?" His mind raced as Lucy continued to silently watch him with an expectant smile. _Two_? Why had she deliberately bought a pair of these onesie things? _Two...oh, my God._ _Twins_?

"We're having twins? Two babies? At the same time?" he choked out. Wyatt's world tilted for a fraction of a second before righting itself. Lucy was pregnant...with twins. Tugging her close, he cupped her damp cheek and hoarsely assured her, "You have made me the happiest man on the planet, Lucy Logan. I love you so much." Now they were both smiling and crying (just a little). _Hey, that was okay, they were surely entitled–it wasn't every day a couple found out they were expecting two babies, _he thought, nearly overcome with emotion.

Comfortably situated within his arms, Lucy reached for the yellow envelope and handing it to Wyatt, asked him to open it, an inscrutable expression on her face. He obeyed with shaking hands and pulled out a grainy-looking picture. If he wasn't mistaken, it was an ultrasound.

"Are these our babies?" he asked in awe after a moment, gently touching the tip of his finger to the image of two tiny spots. Wyatt looked up and laughed with pure joy. _They were going to be parents..._

Abruptly aware his carefully chosen gift couldn't come within a Texas mile of matching, let alone topping, the magnitude of his wife's (_and unsurprisingly, he was pretty damn okay with that_), Wyatt sat back on the sofa and settled Lucy snugly next to him. "Thank you, sweetheart, you've given me the best Valentines Day present ever. Now, besides the flowers, I have something else for you," he said, fumbling in his pocket for the gift he'd been carrying around all week.

_\- Lucy -_

Her eyes widened when Wyatt thrust a small, prettily-wrapped gift at her. "Wyatt," Lucy protested half-heartedly, "You didn't have to get me anything else–the flowers are perfect, really, more than enough."

Shaking his head fondly, Wyatt lowered his mouth to hers for a lingering kiss before murmuring against her lips, "Just open the damn box, Miss Bossy Know-It-All." In retaliation for the nickname she secretly adored, Lucy quickly reached up to nip her husband's sexy lower lip, amused at the desire instantly darkening his azure eyes–as well as a faint hiss he couldn't suppress. Flashing him an unrepentant grin, she tore at the wrapping paper to see what looked like a jewelers box.

Her hands stilled on the box and she shot Wyatt a curious look before opening the lid with a snap. Lucy gasped in shocked pleasure at the sterling silver oval locket nestled on a bed of grey velvet. "Oh, Wyatt," she breathed in wonder, lifting the delicate, old-fashioned-looking locket hanging from a finely-wrought chain out of the box with trembling fingers and holding it up in front of her, "You got me a new locket?"

"Open it," he coaxed, unconsciously echoing his wife from just moments ago. When Lucy's fingers shook nervously as she tried to work the tiny side clasp, Wyatt came to the rescue, deftly springing open the locket to reveal it would hold not two, but _four_ pictures. When she gaped at him in shock, he shrugged and confessed with a dimpled grin, "I don't know how that happened, Lucy, I swear, I picked out this particular one because I thought it was pretty. And look, there's plenty of room front and back, too, if you eventually want to have something engraved on it," Wyatt pointed out helpfully.

Swallowing thickly, she nodded slowly before placing the locket over her head, pleased to see it rested near her heart. _Wyatt Logan was officially the best husband ever, _Lucy decided. Reaching out to caress his stubbled cheek, she blinked back joyful tears, whispering, "Thank you, Wyatt. This is a gift I will treasure forever." It was a solemn promise she meant to keep. Getting to her feet, Lucy held out her hand invitingly and suggested, "How about we move this Valentines Day celebration upstairs, soldier? There might be one last surprise for you underneath this red sweater I'm wearing."

She squeaked in surprise when without hesitation, Wyatt jumped up and swept her into his strong arms. "Yes, Ma'am," he responded huskily, pausing only long enough to kiss her soundly before heading for the stairs with Lucy held protectively against his chest. Gazing at her husband's strong profile as he easily carried her up the steps to their bedroom, Lucy Preston Logan couldn't ever remember feeling happier than she did in this very moment. As predicted, it truly had turned out to be a Valentines Day she and Wyatt would never forget...

And around seven months later, after the ecstatic new parents welcomed beautiful, healthy, perfect twin daughters, little Amy and Flynn's pictures joined those of her husband and sister in the silver locket Lucy cherished so dearly and always wore close to her heart...

_A/N #2: Full disclosure: In order to meet the #Lyatt Week challenge deadline, I've never before written this many words in such a short amount of time (less than three days), so I take full responsibility for any glaring errors you may come across–hopefully, there are very few! It was hectic, but also quite rewarding to try and imagine how Lucy and Wyatt found out they were expecting Amy and Flynn, especially when it seemed to happen not very long after the team moved out of the bunker to begin new lives free from the shadow of Rittenhouse. This is definitely something, along with their wedding, that I'd love to see–even in flashbacks–in a Timeless season three or movie. A quick note to those of you following You Made Me Love You-I have more than half of the sixth and (I think/hope) final chapter written and promise to finish and post it soon. As always, my sincere appreciation to everyone who takes the time to read, favorite, follow, and especially review my stories. Thanks so much :))_


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